


Camera

by Lina_Love



Series: Saw Bullshit [2]
Category: Saw (Movies)
Genre: Boys In Love, Cameras, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow recovery, oh my god they were roommates, photography as therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:49:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26656165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lina_Love/pseuds/Lina_Love
Summary: adam picks up his camera for the first time since the incident tm
Relationships: Adam Faulkner-Stanheight/Lawrence Gordon
Series: Saw Bullshit [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942012
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Camera

**Author's Note:**

> okay see here's my second one I uh ,,, don't really know where I'm going with this yet but I'm guna try and just build these two up before I get more serious with my stories and try and see if I can find an over aching plot line eventually
> 
> but in the meantime here's some SOFT times

Ｃａｍｅｒａ ；

Ｃｈａｉｎｓｈｉｐｐｉｎｇ

Adam's prized possession sat in the center of a shared house. Propped on the middle of Lawrence's kitchen island.

It hadn't been in Adam's hands since he placed it in Lawrence's car to be moved with the rest of his few belongings. The doctor had brought it in for him.

That damned thing taunted Adam each day.

While photography was one of his favorite hobbies, something he'd do even if he was paid or not, the thought of it made his stomach twist with disgust.

Leeching on the exploitation of others, ( _which he didn't even realize he was doing before the incident_ ) , trailing behind Lawrence Gordon for unknown reasons, ( _he almost ruined the life of the man who SAVED his life_ ) , and on top of any personal reasons, just looking at his camera brought back a deep, raspy voice.

_Up until now, you've simply say in the shadows, watching others live out their lives._

A cloud shifted over the setting sun outside, casting a new, perfect outline of a tree into the room, dead from the Autumn weather, branches spread out ominously.

**_What do vouyers seen when they look in the mirror?_ **

From the corner of his eye, he took note of the mirror visible from the half open bathroom door. He focused on the spot of grime in the corner built up from excessive use. He couldn't take his eyes away from it. It wasn't right. When Lawrence got home, he'd have to bug him to fix it. 

He could still barely step foot into a bathroom, much less be in one that had any bit of dirt and filth in it.

**_NOW I SEE YOU AS ANGRY YET APATHETIC BUT MOSTLY JUST P A T H E T I C._ **

Why was he so scared of that bathroom? Of that camera? Why couldn't he do the simplest of things..?

"Jesus Christ, Stanheight, get it the fuck together," he spoke to himself, but still, his eyes couldn't leave that mirror.

"The fucker isn't going to kidnap you again, there's nothing wrong with taking a piss or a shower," he continued as he forced himself to stand.

"It's not bad. It's not evil. He doesn't have a reason. It's just using a bathroom. "

Mentally, he counted down from three in order to build up the strength to tear his gaze away from the mirror despite the anxiety that came with it. That unease passed when there wasn't a pig mask behind him once he had turned away.

But nowhere in this house was safe, not to him. No number of locks would be enough. No precautions to lessen his triggers would be foolproof.

The theory of such was only proven when his turning put his focus back on that camera.

On that island.

"Who the fuck is rich enough to put a land mass in the middle of their kitchen?"

He didn't think too hard about the fact that he was talking to himself. That was probably the most normal part of it all, he often spoke to himself, some of his best conversations happened alone in the dark room he had left behind.

"Fuck me. Fuck YOU. "

He approached the beloved piece of technology, moving his hand down to settle in his familiar resting position.

It made his chest feel warm.

Made a pleasant buzz settle in his mind.

No bathroom tiles.

Not pathetic, but meaningful. Beautiful that such a useless existence of a life could capture the darkness of reality.

Pictures never lied. They never shifted.

There was beauty in it. With the camera back in his hand, he felt a bit of that forgotten passion flooding back. The desire to share what he saw through a fish eyed lens to the world.

A sloppy, staticy picture on the steps outside of a concert, hands briefly meeting with a beautiful girl.

A picture of a dozen take out bags on a deteriorated table.

Never anything sappy like flowers or sunsets.

The rawness of life was something he always craved, despite the fact that now, that very thing was tearing him in half.

Real life was horrible. Dark. Terrifying.

His basic existence as a young, starving artist shifted so quickly.

He used to think he was miserable then. If only he knew how normal his life had been before.

Slowly, he turned with the camera in hand.

The shutter of it taking a picture of the shadow cast in the room caused him to flinch. It momentarily brought him back to trying to light his apartment with the tool.

He forgot how loud it was. Without a doubt, that image would come out blurry. It made it real.

It made his fear tangible.

Socked feet shuffled across the floor to stand in front of the bathroom door. 

Another flash, reflecting off the mirror. He didn't flinch this time, but he knew the flash of the camera would cast a glare from the glass.

He turned the camera down, taking a picture of his lower half. Two feet, intact. Free from chains.

The lock on the door turned, and he spun on his heel to meet the sound, finger pressing down to take another picture, to capture the intruder, to shock whoever it was long enough for him to stumble to get a weapon.

He got a low hiss in a familiar baritone, and he instantly felt bad for momentarily blinding his roommate.

"I thought you were working all night, like one of those shitty doctors on those hospital dramas who have no life -- "

Lawrence simply stared ahead at Adam as he closed the door behind him, a small, gentle smile on his face once the distortion in his vision faded.

"Why are you looking at me like that? That's insanely creepy. You sure you're not the real kidnapper? Because if you are, you could've given me a lot more drugs and -- "

"Adam."

It was spoken in the tone that the younger man knew to mean, ' _Stop talking for five seconds_ ,' without it having to actually be said.

"What's up, daddy-o? How can I help ya?"

The smug little smirk Adam was wearing at his own words faded instantly when the doctor motioned to the camera in his hand.

"It's good to see you using it again."

"Oh, uh, well, y'know."

Sheepish as he set the camera down once more, gaze shifting away.

"That's the first time I've come home unannounced without you actually trying to assault me. I think you should use it. You look better. It's good to have an outlet."

As he spoke, he carried in two plastic grocery bags, setting them on the island.

Adam still hated that piece of furniture, but he hated the fact that Lawrence never let him know when he bought things. He hated not being able to help, because he couldn't imagine how hard it was for him to carry anything with that prosthetic foot.

"Yeah, I mean, I should, but am I? Who can tell. What'd you get? Is it all healthy shit again?"

Adam wandered over moving a hand to wrap around Lawrence's waist, hesitant but affectionate all the same.

The doctor's small smile grew just a bit, content in the situation.

"I got you some cheese crackers and cookies, I'm not doing an actual run until Saturday."

"Did you just call Cheez-Its, cheese crackers?'

Lawrence's nose pinched up, huffing out a defensive sigh at Adam's laughter.

"I'll take them back if you don't want them."

"No, no! I want them, I want them! _Jeez_ , Larry, learn to take a joke."

A hand moved out to grab the box, but he stalled.

Lawrence could see the gears turning in the young man's head, but before he could question anything, Adam lifted his camera, and there was another flash, a picture being taken of the box of crackers.

"To remember that at least someone in this God forsaken world knows how to take care of a starving asshole."

Affection flooded Lawrence's heart, something about knowing that something so basic was worth one of Adam's pictures just because of him...

It must have shown on his face how deeply his affections were reaching with the way a flash of discomfort flashed in Adam's eyes, instantly self destructive and avoidant of any emotions he had, especially ones for other people.

He had gone into great detail about his last partners and how quick they had all been to leave due to his angry nature.

Lawrence could see that, but even more than that, he could see a man who was trying to change after being faced with the same horrific, forced epiphany that he had shared with him.

He already knew the change of topic was coming before Adam spoke.

"The bathroom mirror, it, uhm - "

Oh. This. Lawrence had noted it as he showered that morning before leaving for work.

"I know. I got some Windex at the store. I'll take care of it."

A fuzzy feeling sat in Adam's veins at the fact that the doctor had already thought of it, and he couldn't think of anything to do other than nod.

"And I really want to --"

"Rest. Adam, it's fine, you don't need to wait up for me. You look exhausted. You can take the bedroom tonight, take the camera."

"I can help clean, if you want."

"In the bathroom? I don't think so."

"But you're doing fucking everything for me, and I don't sleep anyways, so I may as well do something that doesn't make me the equivalent of a puppy who just tore up a house and is only around because it's entertaining."

The words left a bad taste in Lawrence's mouth, hearing Adam think so lowly of himself.

His chin settled on a wild head of hair, moving one of his own arms to curl around Adam's waist in return, holding him closer to his side.

It made him feel a little better about Adam's mindset when he felt the other melt against.

"Listen. You look exhausted, but you're less upset than I've seen you since…"

He didn't have to say it from the way Adam tensed against him.

"It's going to be a good chance for you to get in some decent rest. I want you to be okay more than I care about anything in here, alright?"

Adam huffed out a little sound, unconvinced.

Lawrence tilted his head to press a kiss to the top of Adam's own, squeezing him tighter for a beat.

That warmth in Adam spread. Someone cared about him. Someone truly cared about him, and that paired with his exhaustion and refound interest in his camera was nearly enough to make him cry then and there.

Slowly, he pulled back. He wanted to drink in Lawrence's warmth forever, but that mirror needed to be fixed. And he knew he needed to take this opportunity to get some much needed sleep.

Damn Lawrence for always being right.

"Fine. I'll see you in a few hours, or a few days, I have absolutely no fucking idea. Wake me up before you leave tomorrow if I'm not already up. Someone has to kick your ego's ass before you go into work.

Seriously, you're worse than I am half the time. Why the fuck does your name tag say, ' Doctor Lawrence Gordon , ' I swear, how necessary is that? Was ' Dr. Gordon , ' not good enough? It's literally the most self absorbed thing I've ever seen, and I like talking to myself more than I like talking to any human I've ever met ever. And everyone is just buying it! The nice doctor, smart and calm, but I know better.

You're like, fucking crazy. I've seen you lose your shit. How do you hide that so well? Are you a serial killer if you don't get your coffee in the morning? Oh. If we don't talk in the morning, how many people are going to go missing? I --"

"Okay. Adam. "

There were no words taken from the photographer's lips, even looking at the less than amused glint in Lawrnece's eyes, he couldn't remember anything he'd said seconds before.

"Yeah? That's me."

There was a shit eating grin on the younger man's face when he spotted the fondness that lingered in Lawrence's eyes despite his obvious annoyance.

"Bedroom. Good night."

"Yeah, yeah, keep your stethoscope on."

Adam lifted his camera as he moved to retreat for the night, but not before he turned to quickly snap a picture of Lawrence again, capturing that look of quiet love and admiration stuck in his eyes.

All directed at him.

_A picture may be worth a thousand words, but there would be no words to describe the reality of a budding relationship built upon a mutual hardship._

**Author's Note:**

> kudos comments and constructive criticism welcome 👉👈🥺


End file.
